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"Where? Indeed you haven't! He's the most charming young man I ever knew; and I've known more than you have, my dear! Mr. Rennie says he's the finest young man in Italy. His mother is lovely too."

"Yes," Claire said thoughtfully. "But I think she manœuvres a little."

"To make you like him? Well, that's natural, and a great compliment to you too. I think she's far from being mercenary; and her son hasn't a bit of that. No one could look at him for a moment and believe such a thing."

"No," Claire admitted. "It's true. He isn't that sort in the least, and I think he's splendid of course. I only meant I've seen others more like him than I have like Mr. Orbison. I've never seen anybody at all like Mr. Orbison. He's older, too, and that's rather fascinating—particularly when a girl's seen so terribly many fledglings of about her own age."

Mrs. Ambler sighed. "Oh, dear! What makes you think the poor man wants to meet—us? I haven't seen him show the slightest symptom."

"He had his table changed to the one next to ours, didn't he?"